Saving Each Other
by writingluverr82
Summary: "Peeta loves you, Katniss. He loved the baby too, but because you lost her doesn't mean he'll love you any less. There was absolutely nothing you could have done to prevent this from happening." Takes place 10 years after Mockingjay.
1. Chapter 1

I looked out onto the dark streets of the Victors Village. The only sound I could hear were the soft chirping of crickets and a pan crash on the floor in the kitchen, I just ignored it. I placed my hand on my stomach where there used to be a bump. My head fell back onto the headrest looking up at the stars. I wondered if she was up there looking down on me.

"Sorry, I messed up your kitchen." Haymitch walked outside, leaning up against the door. It was nice to know he could be sober when I needed him to be.

"It's alright," I swallowed the lump in my throat. "You helped me so much today and I want to truly thank you. I don't know what I would have done if it wasn't for you and Sae." I crossed my arms, feeling like I still needed to protect my middle, and stood up. "I just couldn't...Peeta...and he wanted one so bad...I just couldn't do that it him...I was already scared enough...all the blood and you and Sae were here visiting anyways..." I rambled for a while until Haymitch placed both his hands on my shoulders.

"Sweetheart, sweetheart." his grip was firm on my shoulders. "Peeta loves you, Katniss. He loved the baby too, but because you lost her doesn't mean he'll love you any less. There was absolutely nothing you could have done to prevent this from happening." Haymitch pulls me into a hug and I don't object. He still smells of liquor and I know when I let him go he'll go to his home to drink again. But for a moment longer I soak in this moment of him being sober and holding me like my father would have if he was here.

He kisses my forehead and pats my shoulder again before he leaves. I lean up against the porch, realizing the dread of having to tell Peeta that I lost our baby.

…

I feel like I'm in some sort of daze for the entire night after I made Greasy Sae leave, telling her I was OK. Every movement I make seems slower and harder to do. My mind wanders frequently to things that mean absolutely nothing to me.

I find myself wrapped in a blanket, shivering. Whatever brought me to this point right now all comes crumbling down around me. The sobs that come from my mouth scare me. They're so loud and so hard that I was sure Haymitch could hear me if he wasn't passed out somewhere in a corner of his house. I hated the idea that I was that loud, but I knew it was true.

All I remember was that there was a lot of blood. I didn't understand why there was so much; I didn't even understand why there was any at all. After Greasy Sae walked in the bathroom, I couldn't remember anything between then and when I woke up in a hospital bed surrounded by doctors talking in hushed voices. I didn't know how I had got there, only that my body ached. Every muscle felt like jelly and throbbed. I tried to find words to ask, but they got lost in a storm of questions my mind had. I lost consciousness multiple times; at least that's what they told me.

When I finally woke back up I was hooked up to a machine, a beeping from a monitor was loud in my ear. I turned my head to see Haymitch and Greasy Sae both sitting in a chair next to my bed. She had her head in her hands and Haymitch whispered something in her ear. When he saw me he slightly nudged her.

"Hey, baby," she spoke soft and she held her hand in mine.

"What happened?" My voice was hoarse and cracked.

Sae simply shook her head. "You lost her." She swallowed. "You lost your baby."

The rest of the day was blurred-fuzzy almost. I couldn't really grasp the thought of not having a baby inside me. I would continually look down at my stomach, hoping, by some odd miracle, that my bump would be there again and it was all a bad dream. The blanket wrapped around me feels like it weighs a thousand pounds. The doorknob wiggles and my stomach drops to my feet. I have to tell Peeta about what happened.

"Katniss?" I can feel the warm summer breeze come in when he opened the door. I normally loved the feeling, but right now it made me feel sick.

"Hey, Peeta," My voice was scratchy from me not using it. I tried to turn my body around to face him from the couch, but I was numb.

"Katniss, are you alright?" I stayed silent; I knew if I tried to speak again I might break down in tears. "Katniss?"

I could hear Peeta's voice in the kitchen come closer to where I was sitting. His footsteps reached the doorway to the living room, his blue eyes looking straight into mine. I pulled the blanket farther up over my stomach, hoping to cover up the nonexistent bump.

He smiled a smile that made my heart shatter into a million pieces; a smile that had yet to find out his daughter had died. "Hey Katniss," he walked over and sat on the couch next to me, placing an arm on the headrest above me. "Are you okay? Is everything alright?"

I softly shook my head. How was I going to be able to tell him? Haymitch's voice comes into my mind, _'He loves you, Katniss. He loved the baby too, but because you lost her doesn't mean he'll love you any less. There was absolutely nothing you could have done to prevent this from happening.' _He was right. Peeta does love me, and I don't always realize it.

I lick my chapped lips and clear my throat, I can feel my eyes tearing up and that they're puffy. He rubs his thumb on my cheek. I lean into his hand, finding comfort in his tender touch. "Tell me, sweetheart."

"I lost her." my heart sinks as his small smile fades. He wanted this baby even more than I did. "I lost our baby," I bite my lip so hard and fast I taste blood.

"Wait, what?"

"I lost her, Peeta. The baby, our baby. She's gone." I raised my voice. Why did he need to ask me to say it again? Didn't he understand what I said the first time?

"I don't understand," he whispered. His face was confused, hurt, and hallow. Almost empty, like I had sucked the life out of him. I gently pushed the blanket off of me and revealed my flatter stomach.  
>I watched a tear run down his cheek, I brushed it away.<p>

"Peeta," my own tears began fall as he took me into his arms. The memories of the day seemed to fade away once he embraced me. The tears that I had shed alone I shared with him. I knew I wouldn't go through this alone. He was here he wasn't turning his back on me like so many people would. In that moment we were one, sharing something that you could never describe into words. He felt my pain and I felt his. In some way or another we were saving each other, just like we had in the arenas and just like we would for the rest of our lives.

_A/N: I'm not sure how this idea came to me, but I liked how it turned out and for now it's a one-shot, I may decide to continue it if I have time because I do have an idea for the story. And I just may have talked myself into making it a series. _


	2. Chapter 2

I woke up to the sun shining in my wind and the soft chirping of birds. I pulled the blankets over my shoulders, closing my eyes again. I didn't want to deal with the day or what it would bring. My hand reaches out for Peeta but he isn't there. My eyes shoot open, frantically searching for him. I pull the blankets off of me and rundown the hallway, "Peeta?" Even though my brain was telling me he was somewhere in the house and safe, my feet were telling me to run down the stairs.

The sweet aroma of blueberry pancakes fills my nose and I stop dead in my tracks. "Peeta, you're alright," when I see him turn around, without thinking I run to him, wrapping my arms around his neck.

"Kat, why wouldn't I be?" I felt his hands on my waist, pushing me away to look in my eyes but my grasp became tighter around his neck and I buried my face in the crook of his neck.

"Because you weren't next to me when I woke up," I mumble against his skin.

"I was making you breakfast," I could hear in his voice that he was smiling. I pulled away from his neck to look down at the counter where a tray was sitting. There was so much food that if he had brought it to me I wouldn't have known where to begin eating: Cheese bread, cinnamon rolls, pancakes, fruit, coffee, milk, cupcakes, and tea overflowed the tray.

"Peeta," I paused, contemplating what to say to him. I decided to make light of what he was trying to achieve. "Are you trying to feed a whole village or is this all for you?"

He smirked, shaking his head and running his fingers through his hair.

"Oh, baby," I placed a hand on his neck, "Thank you for this, really. But don't smother me with food. Please don't." I chuckled softly, my hands making their way to the back of his head to run my fingers through his blonde hair.

He chuckled too, "Alright. I'm sorry." then he smiled, a smile that made my heart ache remembering yesterday and the sorrow of it all.

Peeta had held me for hours last night in bed. I could feel each tender kiss on my head, every brush of his hand on my waist. My sobs had turned to soft puffs of my breath, silent while the fan was running. Every few minutes he would tuck the blanket underneath the side of me he wasn't lying next to. His warm breath was evident on my ear and every so often I would feel a tear drop onto it. I pulled him closer to me and felt his heartbeat against my chest. "Why did this happen to us?" I heard him mumble once he had thought I had fallen asleep. "God," he sighed, I felt his fingers run through my hair. "Why did you have to take her away from us? You knew how much I had wanted this." Peeta did that every so often. Talk to a God that he thought would listen. That would give him a sense of hope that would always be there when nothing else could be.

He patted my waist and made his way over to the tray and picked up a cinnamon roll. He handed one to me and we ate in silence for longer than we had in quite a long time.

He had finally broke the silence, but with a question I'd been dreading all morning, "Why didn't you come get me?" he spoke in a quiet voice, every word he said seemed to get softer.

"It was the middle of the day," I began, licking my lips hoping to regain any composure I could muster in that short amount of time. "Haymitch and Greasy Sae were here eating lunch. And I had passed out." I rubbed my forehead, "I was sure the bakery would be busy and I didn't want to..." my voice faded, the excuses I had in my head wouldn't reach my lips. Every excuse sounded like a well thought out lie. "I didn't want you to deal with any more pain." My eyes become foggy from the tears forming in my eyes, and my words begin to be jumbled. "You wanted this baby so much and I hadn't. But I had loved it more and more as I carried her, but I just knew that you were going to be more upset about it that me." Finally, the truth. Every excuse that I had thought of last night was lost in my mind. I told Peeta the truth. I hadn't wanted the baby, but I had loved her.

"You thought I wasn't strong enough?" The sadness in his voice is evident, but I catch a glimpse of anger as well. "You thought I wasn't strong enough to hold your hand while you were in the hospital? You thought I wasn't strong enough to be the one to tell you our baby was dead?" His eyes bore into mine. Searching for more answers than what I had already given to him. But I didn't have anything else. I'd lost a baby I never wanted in the first place.

"You're a heartless woman." Peeta mumbles loud enough just so I can hear.

I hold back more tears, "How could you say that to me?"

"I call them like I see them," he shoves the tray of food into the sink. In pure shock, I watch him grab his coat and walk out the door.

My hand covers my mouth and my knees hit the floor, _what have I done?_

_A/N: Yes, I know it's a bit short and the characters may be a little OOC, but I wanted to give the feeling that Peeta was so distraught over losing a baby and that she didn't want him to be there with her, that he couldn't handle being around Katniss for some time. I also hope this chapter cleared up a little bit of why Peeta wasn't there with Katniss when she was in the hospital. I think the next chapter should also clear up some of your other questions as well. If not feel free to PM me. _


	3. Chapter 3

My eyes open to the still darkness of the night. I rub them and sit up, getting dizzy in the process. I fell asleep on the couch last night, or this morning? I'm not quite sure what time it is right now, all I can comprehend is that Peeta is still gone. _And it's all my fault. _I had known this would be his reaction when I told him, but I didn't expect it to be this big. But, then again, he was the one who had begged me in the first place for a child, I grumbled to myself, so why is he upset about something I've told him all along? That I didn't and don't want a child. _Plain and simple._

I push myself up off the couch knowing that I have to get on with the day, no matter what time it may be. As I begin to run my bath, my mind fills with questions that I'm not sure could be answered. _Where is Peeta? What if he doesn't come back? Does he still love me? _

My eyes fall down to the pearl ring on my finger. The same pearl he gave me in the arena fifteen years ago. I push it with my thumb. _What if he leaves?_ I couldn't bear the thought of not waking up next to Peeta again, one night was bad enough.

As the tub finishes filling up, I place one foot in first and slowly bring the other one in. My body aches as I slowly slide down to sit. I wince in pain, but the warm sensation of the water makes me sink deeper down.

My thumb finds my ring once more; I've never played with it so much in the last fifteen years that I've had it. I look down at it, in all its simplicity, it's beautiful and pure. Maybe this is the way Peeta sees me. To be quite honest, I don't know what Peeta sees in me now. Does he see a monster? Or am I still the Katniss he fell in love with?

I close my eyes and lean my head back against the tub, allowing my body to end its fight to stay awake.

Everything around me is black. The walls, the floor, the ceiling, it's a never ending black hole. A pink bassinet sits a few feet away from me; my feet begin to jog towards it, curious to what is inside it.

Once I reach it, I look down to see a little blue eyed baby girl. She cries out for me, I try to pick her up in my arms, but she's being dragged away from me by an invisible force. I begin to run after her. Her cries grow louder and louder and there's nothing I can do to make it stop pulling her away from me.

"Stop," I scream, "Please, please stop!" My breathing grows heavy and my heart races from the speed my legs somehow seem to be achieving. The bassinet comes to a halt and I catch up to it. My arms go out in front of me, scooping up my baby and holding her in my arms. I look around searching for the one person I want most right now, "Peeta," I yell. "Peeta, where are you?" I scream louder, the baby starts to cry in my arms. I bounce up and down hoping to subside her cries while still frantically searching for Peeta. But all I see is darkness.

"He's gone, Katniss," A voice echoes in my head. A voice I know all too well. A voice I haven't heard in fifteen years and had hoped I'd never have to hear again.

"Where is he, Snow?" My teeth grind together, disgusted that I'm even responding to this scum.

"He left you, Katniss." The way he speaks makes it sound like he's smiling. "You lied to him, you hurt him, and you've done so much to him that he cannot even trust you anymore."

"What are you talking about?"

"For fifteen years Peeta asked you almost every day for a baby. And then you lie to him, saying that you wanted one." _How did he know that? He's been dead for fifteen years. _"You lied right to his face and even I know you were happy when you had lost the baby."

I look down at the bundle in my arms, the baby started to feel lighter and lighter, she was being taken from me, "What are you doing?" I cringe, looking up into the darkness, looking up at no one. My baby begins to cry again, her little body slowly turning to ash. "No," I whisper. "No, Snow, please no. Don't take her from me." I scream.

"Oh, Miss Everdeen, when will you ever learn not to lie?" he snickers. A gust of wind blows, taking my baby from my arms, her ashes flying away into the darkness.

"No, no, no, no," I scream. "Please come back, please come back…" I drop to my knees, screaming at the top of my lungs, looking out into the darkness that engulfed my mind and surroundings.

"Katniss," A yelling voice breaks me out of my nightmare. "Are you alright? Wake up, you're having a nightmare." My eyes open to a face I never thought I'd see again. My mouth closes; I realize that the screams in my dream have made their way to the real world.

"Peeta," I whisper under my breath, my voice hoarse. "Peeta, what are you doing here? He said you'd left."

"Who said I'd left, Katniss?" He looks down at me, his eyebrows furrowed.

"Snow," I pause, searching for the words I cannot find. "He said…you…and she…" I look down and realize I'm still lying in the bathtub. I shiver from the now cold water and the scratches that now cover my body. "What time is it?"

He ignores my rambling, "Here, Katniss," Peeta holds out the towel he's holding in his hand, his arms open wide. "Come here," He grabs me by the waist, pulling me up and out of the water. His warm arms embrace me; I find the comfort I always need after a nightmare.

"Why did you come back?" My teeth chatter. He stays silent as he pulls me in his arms to carry me to our bedroom. I rest my head on his shoulder, and focus on the steady rhythm of his breathing and the sound his feet make as they hit the floor.

Only a moment later, Peeta places me on our bed, my eyes becoming heavier once more even if I may have slept the entire day; I give into them, but promise to only rest them for a moment. There's so much I need to tell him, so much he needs to hear.

"Peeta," I mumble, I can hear him shuffle around, opening drawers and throwign things out. "Peeta," I say again. My eyes open, looking up at the ceiling. I push myself up to see him running around our bedroom, frantically opening drawers, and looking through the clothes in the closet. "Peeta, what's the matter?" I stand up, wrapping the towel tighter around my body. "Peeta, what's going on?" His hands grip the edges of the small dresser; his knuckles start to turn white. _He only does this when he's having a flashback._

"Peeta, baby," I walk up behind him and place my hands on his back, rubbing circles with my fingertips. I feel his body tense and then relax under my touch. Over the years, I've learned that this is the best method to calm him down. At first, it wasn't the best idea, I narrowly escaped his grasp many times.

"You're not trying to kill me, real or not real?" he whispers under his breath.

I place my chin on his shoulder and whisper back, "Real,"

He turns around and faces me, the tips of his fingers running across my jawline. In his eyes, I can see that he's thinking hard about something, whether it's if I'm telling the truth or about what happened yesterday. He sighs and places his forehead against mine, "I'm so sorry for everything I said."

I nod, "You had every right to say the things you did,"

"No I didn't." He brings his hands up to my cheeks, "I had no right to tell you the things I did. Nothing was your fault. None of it," He places a gentle kiss on my lips, as if he believes I could break any minute, "I'm sorry I pressured you into having a baby. I've waited fifteen years, I can wait another fifteen," We both chuckle softly.

"I love you," I say against his lips as he places another soft kiss on mine. I shiver slightly, a reminder that I'm only being covered by a towel.

He chuckles, "You really need to put some clothes on."

"I know," I grab an oversized t-shirt of Peeta's and undergarments he happened to pull out for me-the rest of our clothes lying on the floor from his episode. I sigh, looking at the ground, "I'll clean it up tomorrow." Out of the corner of my eye, I see Peeta trying to cover the smirk on his face.

Soon enough, I'm underneath the warm blankets. My mind drifting off into sleep, but still fearing that the dream I had earlier would resurface. I feel Peeta's lips press against my forehead, "Are you awake?" he whispers.

I nod my head.

"Do you want to tell me what your dream was about?" he questions, his hand rubbing my side that sends shivers down my spine.

I shake my head. "Not really,"

He just sighs softly and slowly creeps down deeper under the covers.

Before I get comfortable enough to fall asleep, I ask one last thing, hoping to hear the answer I want to hear, "Will you be here when I wake up?"

"Always," I can't help but wonder if that will always be true.

_A/N: Hey everyone. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. It may be a little OOC with Katniss and maybe even a little bit of Peeta, but I wanted to show how vulnerable both Katniss and Peeta are and it could lead to major trouble in the end. I'm looking for someone to Beta this story. Is anyone interested? I really need one, just so they can help correct any spelling/grammer/story errors because sometimes I don't catch them._

_Xoxo_

_ Acuriouswriter_

_ (Changed my pen name, love, like, hate?)_


	4. Chapter 4

I wake up to the sweet alarm of rain falling on the roof and thunder crashing in the distance. To my pleasant surprise, I feel Peeta's arms still wrapped around me, keeping me warm. _No bad dreams last night._ I glance at the clock on the wall. 8:30 am. It hits me that I slept almost all day yesterday. I slowly push the covers off of me, careful to not wake Peeta.

My legs take over my body as I walk down the hallway to the closed door I haven't stepped foot in for days. I take a deep breath and open up the door to the room that would have been her nursery. She should be here now, wrapped in my arms safe and sound or sleeping soundly in her crib.

I sit down in the rocking chair in the room with bright blue walls with yellow dandelions Peeta had painted. I chuckle, I remember him asking why I wanted him to paint dandelions.

He held the brush in his hand, holding it to the side, his features giving me a confused look. "Dandelions? Are you sure about that, Katniss?" he chuckled, probably thinking I was out of my mind.

"Well, why not?" I sit down in the rocking chair, actually more like plopped down. My feet throbbed and I felt like an absolute mess. "Dandelions are so inviting. They give me hope." I smiled.

He smiled back at me.

The memory of it all seems so long ago, even if it was only last month. My hands come up to my face, rubbing it. None of it makes any sense. _Why did this happen? Why us? _The last six months had been blissful, calm ones. The thought of it all ending so suddenly never even crossed my mind. But then again, the death of your baby doesn't really cross your mind when you believe you're able to protect it.

I sit in the rocking chair; it creaks as I rock back and forth. My head falls back and my eyes close. Sleep does not come for the first time and instead I simply listen to the steady creak of the chair.

As I think more and more, I believe I really did want this baby. A baby to love as much as I loved Prim. _Prim. _I wonder what she would have thought of what had happened. She would have loved to be an Aunt more than anything in the world. I feel an ache in my chest and decide not to open the old wound that I've tried so hard to patch over for the last fifteen years.

I hear footsteps making their way down the hall, belonging to Peeta. He peers his head in through the door. "Knock, knock," he smiles. Even as he smiles, his eyes show something else: pain. I realize that he hasn't been in her room either, and it seems to be much too soon for him. "I'll be downstairs in a minute, I just needed to think for a moment." he nodded and gave me another smile, closing the door behind him.

I sighed, placing my head on the back of the chair once more. Looking up at the little clouds on the ceiling, I wonder how long it'll take Peeta to be able to walk in this room again without memories flooding back to him as they are for me at this very moment.

He had worked on the ceiling for a week now. Each night after work, he would rush to the nursery to continue his masterpiece of clouds. Many times I would hear objects fall from the room as I read or worked on our plant book, and each time Peeta would assure me it was nothing major, just a mishap. Yet I didn't believe anything was a mishap the afternoon I heard something crash to the floor.

"Peeta?" I yelled, "Are you alright?"

After five minutes without an answer I headed up the stairs, expecting anything and everything. I opened the door to the nursery with my eyes closed, knowing I didn't want to see the mess that was about to be unveiled in front of my eyes.

And to my instinct, I was right. My eyes opened to a blue and white mess. Puddles of blue and white paint stained the floor, the paint continuing to make a path around the entire room.

"Peeta?" my voice cracks as I look to see his figure staring down at the mess he somehow created. "Peeta, how did this happen?"

He opens his mouth to say something but holds it back, simply saying and shrugging, "I fell,"

Together we bursted into laughter, the humor of it all outweighing the damage that had been done to the nursery.

In that moment, everything had been right. Everything had perfectly, magically somehow fit together like a puzzle piece, that it didn't seem real. But as I looked up at the ceiling at those puffy little clouds, I realize that something so simple can be made into something magnificent.

I push myself up off the rocking chair, flooding my mind with glorious memories, and taking one last look and the room before shutting the door to head downstairs for breakfast with Peeta.


	5. Chapter 5

"I've been thinking a lot about something," Peeta whispers in my ear. The light from the late morning is shining through our bedroom window, the curtain not enough to shield the room from the growing intensity of the sun. I turn my head towards him, rubbing my eyes and fluffing up the pillow. 

"And what exactly might that be?" I ask, hoping and praying he won't say a baby.  
>He brushes a stray hair from my face and wraps it behind my ear, "Reopening my family's bakery." Peeta says, smiling from ear to ear. <p>

"Really?" of all the things for him to say that was the last thing I'd expected. 

"Yeah." he looks away from me, and up at the ceiling. Opening the thoughts in his mind for me "I've thought about it for a while and I want to reopen it again. I mean, my parents loved it, the city loved it, I loved it." I place my head on his chest, wanting to take in every word he says. 

"It'll be a lot of work. Are you prepared for that?" I question. 

He places a hand on the small of my back. "Actually, yes." 

And in that brief moment, it was settled. We would reopen the bakery to the same design as his parents had it before. We realized soon after that due to the bombing, the place was an absolute wreck and needed something new for everything, so most of the bakery's design came from memory.

I watch Peeta pull out a piece of paper and pencil, and start to draw what I believe is a sketch of the bakery at the kitchen table.

"What are you doing?" I ask, placing a cup of tea next to him and continue to stir the soup.

"I want the bakery to be perfect so I'm trying to remember what it had looked like before...everything." I realize he doesn't look up from his paper, and that it was a struggle enough for him to just speak to me for that little of while without forgetting the bakery. So I let him be, let him continue with the sketch, knowing sooner or later he'd stop. 

And that was true, fifteen minutes later I had dinner on the table and he had placed the sketch back on his desk to continue after dinner. He told me his plans for the bakery, what he'd planned on changing, what had worked last time, what didn't. It felt wonderful to see him so happy about something; he hadn't been excited in such a long time.

"I'm so excited." he smiled, reaching for my hand and kissing it.

"I can tell." I chuckle, his gesture a bit much, but thoughtful. "But I'm really happy for you, Peeta."

"For us." he added, "This is our project, it'll be our bakery. I want your input too."

"Well," I begin, grabbing my plate and his and walking to the kitchen sink. "Thank you, but you really don't. I'm really no good at that kind of stuff."  
>I feel his hands wrap around my waist, his lips coming closer to my lips, his breath on my neck, "You're wonderful at everything you do." His lips brush against the side of my neck, gently kissing his way down my neck.<p>

"Peeta," my voice fades, as his fingers brush down to my shirt, unbuttoning it. I tilt my head up, the plates drop from my hands, shattering in the sink. His hands twist, making my body turn towards his. My fingers find their way to his blonde hair, running them through it. He grabs the back of my legs, and I wrap them around his waist. 

"I love you so much," he whispers in my ear. 

I barely have enough time to say "I love you too," before he's carried me to our bedroom and has placed me on the bed.

I awake to the sound of thunder crashing in the distance and a flash of lightening through the window. I feel the house shake from the intensity of the storm, my hands grasp for something and then I realize something's beneath me.

Peeta's shaking in his sleep, and with each crash of lightening he jumps and shakes even more.

"Peeta," I push on his chest, "Peeta, wake up. It's just a thunderstorm." His eyes shoot open as he's jolted awake by the next crash of thunder, and grabs my waist harder than I expected, "Ow!"

He rubs his eyes and looks down at me. "Katniss, what happened?" I get up off the bed, rubbing my waist, "A thunderstorm. You must've been having a nightmare brought on by the storm."

He rubs his forehead, trying to remember. "Yeah, I th-think so," he stutters, shivering from the cold air from the open window. I walk over to close it, staying to watch the storm outside.

"How bad do you think it's gonna get?" I pull my sweater

I hear Peeta's footsteps walk towards me. He kisses my shoulder and wraps his arms around my waist. He brushes up against my waist and it's tender, "I hope not too bad. The plants can't take too much rain, they'll die." _Of course the plants are Peeta's first worry-wait, the plants. _

I push Peeta's arms off of my waist and run down the steps. I can hear Peeta yelling for me, but I ignore him. I have to get to them. I have to save them. "Katniss, what are you doing?" Once I open the door, Peeta's voice becomes drowned out by the sound of the heavy rain pouring down.

I run out to the garden that Peeta has planted, I place my body overtop the primroses, wanting to protect them with everything inside me, wanting to protect them more than I protected Rue, more than I protected Prim, more than I could protect my own child.

The tears fill my eyes, and soon I'm drowning in my own sobs and mutters of I'm sorry. I hear Peeta's tender voice asking me simple questions, but somehow I cannot find the words for the answers to them. I feel his hands grasp my waist, pulling me away from the flowers, telling me that they'll be fine in the morning. Slowly but surely, I listen and allow him to take my shivering and shaking body back into the house.

He places me on the couch and helps me change into a pair of clean clothes. He sits next to me, wrapping our bodies in a blanket. I feel his warm breath on my forehead, and the small tender kisses he places on it. He doesn't ask me any questions, which I thank him silently for. I don't want to talk about what I just did, I don't want to talk about why I felt the need to do what I just did. There are no rational reasons to why I did do it, only insane ones, only ones of a broken person.

Which is exactly what I am, _broken. _


	6. Chapter 6

The next morning, Peeta doesn't mention anything about yesterday's breakdown. I'm appreciative for that. I'm sure he doesn't understand why it happened, even I don't understand, yet we continue on with our routine.

Together we eat breakfast and discuss ideas for the bakery. He wants to keep it the same way his parents first designed it over 20 years ago, and I agree. He only has a few minor changes he wants to fix, such as some upgrades. I go along with everything he says, not because I agree with everything he says, but because the mention of the bakery makes his eyes light up with happiness and he glows with excitement. And there's no way I could even think about taking that away from him.

When I open the window in our bedroom, I realize that the wind outside is beginning to turn crisp; the autumn air taking over the summer air. Seasons like to change so suddenly without me seeming to notice. Life seems to be going faster and faster every day.

I brush my hands on my jeans, and make my way back downstairs. Most days I pass the painted pink door, but today it makes me stop in my tracks. The door is cracked open, which isn't normal. I push it open, finding Peeta sitting in the rocking chair holding a teddy bear with his elbows on his knees. "Peeta?" I whisper.

He looks up at me, wiping his face on his sleeve, "Hey, Katniss,"

I cross my arms over my chest, "What's going on? Are you alright?"

He stays silent for a while, looking at the bear in his hands, and then speaks, "I was so excited," his voice cracks. "I was so excited to be a dad. I've always thought about what it would be like. What he or she would look like, what we'd do together." He places his hand over his mouth. Now, is when I realize he's been hurting. Covering up his pain with a smile. _I've been so selfish. I've only thought about my feelings throughout the entire thing. What about him? He wanted this baby the most. _

"I had just imagined holding her night after night, loving her. I imagined her wrapping her fingers around mine." With every word his voice breaks more. I want to stop him, but I know he has so much more to say. "I had already started to plan her future," he chuckles. "I wanted the world for her. I was so happy to know she would never have to grow up to be a tribute. I hoped she would look exactly like you. I wanted her to be as beautiful as her mother, and grow up to be a strong woman. But she will never have a future. She only was a small bump. Only a figment of my imagination. She was just a dream." He stands up from the chair and that's when I realize I have my own tears falling. "She was taken from us. Maybe she was needed up there in the sky, for a reason we don't know. Maybe we'll never know why. But I know that I love her." In that moment, I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him closer to me, I need to feel his warmth on his body comfort me. I need to feel his arms wrap around my waist.

"I'm so sorry." I whisper in his neck.

"It's not your fault. It's never been your fault." He rubs my back.

"Yes, yes it is," my fingers grasp his sweater, "I should have done something, I should have…I should have

"Yes it is," I pause, grabbing Peeta's sweater, "It is my fault we lost her. I didn't take good enough care of myself, I didn't eat the right things you told me to, I didn't stop hunting until the last possible moment, I stressed about things I didn't need to, I-"

Peeta tries to console me, but it's no use. I sob into his shoulder and I can feel his body quiver every few minutes. Soon enough, he brings me to our bedroom, where together, we cry in one another's arms. There have been too many times where we've had to be strong, in this moment we decide to be weak. We decide to allow each other to cry, to sob in each other's arms wishing that the future looked better than what it does now. And wishing with some glimmer of hope that our baby could come back to us.

"I love you," he whispers, kissing my cheek. We lay there fingers intertwined, staring at each other like we were the only two people in the world, and in this moment we are.

"Maybe this happened for a reason," I begin, "Maybe it wasn't meant to be."

His kisses my forehead, "Maybe,"

"Maybe we are meant to open this bakery," I move my body closer to his, "Maybe we're just meant to enjoy each other's company for the time being. When it happens it'll happen." We both stay silent for a while, softly I whisper, "I still believe in fate."

I hear Peeta sigh, and he kisses my forehead, lingering there for a moment. I close my eyes, feeling his soft lips on my forehead, remembering this moment. "I do too, Katniss." I hear him whisper just as I give in to my heavy eyelids and their begging for sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

Today will be six months since we lost our daughter. Most days I'm okay. Others I can't get out of bed. The pain still feels fresh, like I open a new wound each day. I don't know how to make the pain less, to move on. A box of tissues lay on my bedside table, the box almost empty. It's ridiculous how many boxes I've gone through over the past few months, and chocolates. So much chocolate that I don't want to see it again…until I want it again. And pickles, I never thought I could like pickles with everything lately. It's been strange, and my waistline isn't agreeing with the eating choices I've been making. Each day my pants are getting a wee bit tighter and harder to button. _Stress. Too damn much of it. _

I'm brought out of my thoughts by Peeta massaging my shoulders. I groan and place the pillow over my head. "No." I grumble into the pillow.

Peeta responds with a chuckle and tries to slither his way under the pillow to lay his head beside mine, "Time to get up, my love." He kisses my hair, and his hands find my waist. "Come on, Kat," I feel his arm lock underneath me knees and his other wrap around my shoulders.

"No, no, no, no," I beg, but it's too late as he begins to carry me down the steps and to the living room. He throws me on the couch and I give a loud laugh. "What's wrong with you?" I saw between my laughs, rubbing my eyes.

"Getting you up at a reasonable time," I sit up and cross my legs on the couch. I turn to watch him in the kitchen, cracking the eggs with ease and whisking them with confidence. I place my head on my arms that lay up against the back of the couch.

"It's Saturday morning," I argue, "Why couldn't I have slept past eleven?"

"No, I'm not allowing that anymore," I hear him chuckle. The pan sizzles from something he mixed in it.

"Fine," I conclude.

For a while, I sit there watching him fix breakfast in silence. Every so often, I see him glance back at me, either to see if I'm still there or if I haven't bursted into tears yet. I don't know which one would be worse for him.

"How are you doing?" I hear him ask. Instantly, I know what he's talking about. The tone in his voice made it clear. But surprisingly, it doesn't cause me to cry.

"I'm," I search for the right words for the situation, "Hanging in there, I guess." I look to him and see he's placing the plates on the table. I walk over and join him in setting the table. I place my hand on his back, I feel his muscles tense, then relax when he realizes it's me. "What about you? I didn't even ask how you are."

He turns to face me, grabbing my hand and brushing his lips up against it, "I'm good." He smiles, "But it's only ten-thirty," We both chuckle and sit at the table.

I scarf down my meal faster than normal, and practically beg for seconds. I look at Peeta and see a glimmer of something in his eye, I don't pay attention for long after he's scooped more eggs onto my plate.

Once we finish, Peeta looks up at me, "What do you want to do for her today?" I bite my lip and shrug.

Honestly, I don't know what I want to do. Sleep sounds good, but it's not an option. Crying looks to be a plan, but Peeta won't allow it for long. I'd rather just forget, but I can't. Something inside me isn't letting go and it's destroying of whatever little sanity I have left. Every little thought turns into an unwanted memory. Even just knowing that's it's been half a year since we lost her makes my heart break.

"I don't know what I want to do today." I run my fingers through my hair. I really don't know. My mind's racing and I can't seem to process a simple thought. My head starts to throb to the rhythm of my heartbeat and it feels as if I've been punched in the stomach. I hold my hand over my mouth, but it does no use, I feel it coming. My eyes reach the sink, and my destination is clear. My breakfast makes it way back up and out and soon enough I'm staring at my own half-digested breakfast. I feel Peeta grab my hair and hold it back for me. He begins to scramble for a cup with one hand while still trying to hold my hair. "Here, here," he tells me, holding the water by my face. I gratefully accept it. "Come on,"

He places a hand on the small of my back and the other by my face, in case my body doesn't agree with my breakfast again. I make it to the bathroom, and sit on the cold marble floor against the porcelain tub. I close my eyes, hoping the current nausea will go away, but instead I find my head in the worst place for it to be. I feel Peeta pull my hair back again, this time securing it with a ponytail. He refills my glass and hands it to me as he slides down to sit next to me.

I place my head on his shoulder, making a note to apologize for this later on. He dabs my forehead with a wet washcloth. "You okay?" he asks, wrapping his arm around my waist, pulling my closer.

I nod, "I'm sorry I ruined the day."

He shakes his head, looking down at me, "You didn't ruin the day at all. Now it just gives me an excuse to relax and watch movies with you all day long."

"You don't mean that," I chuckle.

"Yes I do."

"Why would you want to do that?" I ask.

"Because I love you."

And in that simple, beautiful moment it was settled. We weren't going to worry about what day it is, or if it had any significant meaning. We'd celebrate it like it was any other day: with movies and big blankets.

Peeta wouldn't let me do anything. He wouldn't let me light the fireplace, nor would he let me make tea. The only activity I was allowed to do was place the blankets down on the couch. And when I asked he answered, "Just rest. That's all you need is rest." _Dumbest effing excuse I've ever heard. _

So I sit with my arms crossed starting at the black television, glooming in my own self despair and trying to figure out why what happened today did. _Well, food cravings. _Stress. _And then the weight gain. _Even more stress. _Nausea. _Food poisoning? _No way, Peeta's an excellent cook. _Then what was it?

_Oh, my God. No. _Am I pregnant?


	8. Chapter 8

The rest of the afternoon I try to avoid the discussion of what had happened earlier in the day, since I wanted no part of a conversation about why I couldn't hold down my breakfast. Somewhere in the back of my mind, it kept coming up in the conversations I held with myself in my head. Each and every 'symptom' I was having all led up to the P word. I couldn't even bring up the word in my head. It scared me to no end. What if I really was? What would happen? Would it last longer than the other one? I couldn't go through it again, nor could Peeta.

Together Peeta and I sit on our porch. It's the one spot in the entire house where I feel at peace, where I can swing back and forth on the small couch-like swing and forget about my worries. From the corner of my eye, I watch Peeta scribble notes in his notebook and every so often transfer to his sketchbook, still working on the sketch for the bakery, trying to get every detail right.

I pull my legs up and rest my chin on my knees, watching the families walk and couples jogging. Slowly, District Twelve grew throughout the years, adding more and more buildings and little communities. People began to migrate in and soon enough everything sort of started to have a bit of a normalcy to it. Although I missed the quietness of what District Twelve used to be, I don't miss the starvation and poverty that once filled it. If I need to be somewhere quiet, the woods will always be there to welcome me home.

Down the street, I see a tall male stumbling his way down the sidewalk. He trips, even though there's absolutely nothing that he could have tripped over. "Peeta," I tap his arm with the top of my hand. "Look, I think it's Haymitch."

Peeta closes his books and stands up, walking down the steps and over to the man. Indeed, it's Haymitch. I walk over behind Peeta, meeting the two of them. As soon as I stop to greet Haymitch, I smell the odor of alcohol. "Haymitch, are you drinking again?" I question.

He shakes his head slowly, holding up one finger in the air, "Now you listen to me. You have no right to ask me that question," he looks to me, then to Peeta. "Neither of you do. I know you were thinking the same thing."

"No, Haymitch, I wasn't," Peeta says, "I was just thinking how good it is to see you. We haven't in such a long time."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," he brushes Peeta's words off with a wave of his hand. He places his hands on my shoulders and looks into my eyes asking, "How are you, Katniss? Are you doing well?" I take his hands in mine and answer, "I'm fine, Haymitch."

"Good, that's very…" his voice fades, and he belches in his mouth, and then swallows. I groan in disgust.

"Come on, let's get you something to drink," I tell him, still holding his hands, pulling him into the house.

"Wow," his eyes survey the house, "I love what you've done with the house."

Peeta looks at me with curiosity, wondering what exactly we had changed, but the curiosity soon turns into shrugging off what he said.

I place him down on the couch, and sit next to him with a bucket on his lap, knowing at any second vomit could fill it. I hear Peeta fixing dinner, clanging plates and cup together. I turn to smile at him, silently thanking him for doing that.

Ten minutes later, Haymitch ends up with his entire head in the bucket, vomiting violently. All I can do is rub is back, hoping that he'll eventually stop. He takes his head out of the bucket for a moment, swallowing hard. I look at him to see his hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, when he opens his mouth I believe it's for him to puke, but he actually ends up speaking, "Does this look familiar to you lately, Katniss?"

"Haymitch, I don't think I quite understand what you're talking about." I ask.

He lifts his head up, "What I'm talking about, Katniss, is does all this," he points to the bucket, shaking his head so hard his hair moves, "Look familiar to you. As in have you been doing this lately?" His face moves so close to mine I smell the vomit on his breath.

"Have I been doing this late—" I begin my question, but the rest doesn't come out as I realize what he's been asking. "Haymitch, do-do you know?"

I see an evil glimmer in his eye and a slight smirk, "Well you are looking a little rounder these days."

I smack him against the back of the head, which makes him loose his smile immediately. He yelps in pain, but thankfully Peeta doesn't turn around to question my behavior. I lower my voice so only Haymitch can hear, "How did you find out? I don't even know if I am, nor have I told Peeta yet." My voice grows angrier, "You have no right to question me on why I haven't told him or why I have yet to do anything about it. There's nothing you can say to make me feel bad about my decisions because after what happened last time I don't even know if I want to find out if I am or not. So don't you dare tell Peeta, I need to tell him. And if I find out you have or will, I will tear you apart limb from limb and make you watch as I do it." I let out a few sighs of relief, and place my hand on my forehead.

Haymitch chuckles, "I was just going to say congratulations," his head made its way back into the bucket to vomit once more.

After dinner, Haymitch made his way back home and Peeta and I comfortably made our way back onto the front porch. This time, he sat beside me on the swing, his arm wrapped around my waist and a blanket placed over us.

"You know," he began, "I did hear Haymitch yell earlier, I just didn't say anything." He looks down at me, but I just don't have the strength to look at him. "What happened between the two of you?"

I pull my sweater closer to my body, shivering. He pulls me closer to him, wrapping both of his arms around me. "It's nothing." I lie.

"No, it was something," he whispers. "You can tell me."

I rub my eyes, trying to keep them from crying, "I can't."

He stays silent for a moment, and I worry that I've upset him. "Remember the vows we took? I still stand by when I said that I'd love you through whatever challenges we may face." He kissed the top of my head. "Can you tell me what's bothering you?"

I look up at him, knowing that he has a right to know, knowing that he should know, "Haymitch asked me if I'd been doing a lot of throwing up lately."

"And that offended you?" Peeta smirks.

"No." I answer, "What bothered me was when he'd said I'd been looking a bit rounder lately." I pause to look at him and at my hands then back again. "Especially around the stomach area."

Peeta's eyes grow large. He knows what I'm implying, "Are you sure?"

"I believe so." I answer timidly. "I'm two weeks late."

His eyes light up, moving up and down from my eyes to my stomach. In that moment, I've never seen him smile so bright. He wraps his arms around my waist, placing kisses on my neck and my cheek and then to my lips. I laugh at his excitement, but it's slowly lost when I realize the ending of this pregnancy could be the same as the last.

"Peeta," I hold his shoulders, making him stop. "What if this pregnancy ends the way the other one did? What if we lose this baby too?"

He cups my face in his hands, making circles with his thumb, "This time, we're going to do everything in our power to make sure it doesn't." He pulls close to his chest, kissing my hair. And I know in that breathing second, he means what he says.


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N: Hey dearies. Hope you're loving this series, and by the responses I'm getting, you are. YAY. So anyways, I really don't like adding Author's Note's to my chapters because I believe that it takes away from the story and I'd rather you focus on the story and not what I have to say. But I wanted to add one real quick just to say thank you for reading, following and reviewing. It means the world to me, and as a gift I've added three chapters this weekend. It may be a while until my next update, but I'll try and do another one as soon as I find time. Katniss & Peeta's story doesn't end here, nor will it if she has the baby. Enjoy. _

The next morning, Peeta is adamant about scheduling an appointment with my doctor to confirm if I really am the _P_ word. He's pacing the hallway, running his fingers through his hair with a phone to his ear looking like an absolute maniac. I can't help but laugh at his disheveled attempt at taking care of me. I'm appreciative, but know that he cannot do what I need him to. I gesture for him to hand me the phone. He gratefully hands it over.

"Katniss?" The woman on the other end, says my name and I immediately recognize who it is.

"Hey, Doctor Swiftly," I breathe a sigh of relief knowing that I'll be in good hands. "How are you?"

"I'm good, Katniss, but let's not worry about me. Let's deal with the situation you're in." She begins of what I know is going to be a long lecture. I intend not to let it go too far, "I'd like to see you in my office. From what Peeta's told me, you aren't positive you're pregnant, and we'd like to either confirm or deny it, to give you some kind of peace of mind."

"Okay, great. So, when's the earliest you can get me in?" I ask.

I hear her shuffling through paperwork and mumbling a few things to the nurses around her, "How about in an hour?"

Of course I told her yes. The sooner the better. But as I sit in the waiting room, white knuckling Peeta's hand, I'm beginning to regret my decision to pee in that damn cup. The room smells of something strong, and every person in the room looks like their dying. _How on God's green earth could someone do this job?_ I tap my foot to try and relieve some of the tension I'm feeling through my body, plus those two cups of even more water they made me drink is begging to be released.

"Peeta, I don't know how much more of this I can take."

He places his other hand over mine, "Only a little longer, I promise." He kisses my temple, and rubs my leg.

And as if on cue, I hear my name, "Katniss Mellark, the doctor's ready for you." Peeta and I stand up, and he places a hand on the small of my back, giving me the extra push I need to enter the hallway to the room.

She leads us to a door, and opens it, revealing a stuffy, grey and white room. "The doctor will be with you shortly." Peeta thanks the woman, and she closes the door behind us. I sit on the bed, and hear the crackle of the paper that is beneath me. Peeta makes his way towards me, I grasp his hand for something to take my mind off of the events that could proceed within the next few minutes.

"Katniss," Peeta speaks, "Whatever happens happens, alright?" I look at him, hoping for more than that for consoling words. "If it's meant to be it will happen. Just breathe." I obey, and breathe in and out. I close my eyes and sigh. _What if I'm really not preg-no, no I am. Even Haymitch said it looked like I was. _My free hand absentmindedly makes its way to my stomach, hoping to find something there. I feel as if I do, but am uncertain.

The knob of the door handle wiggles and my heart stops. Doctor Swiftly walks in with her clipboard in hand and her glasses on. I see the side of her lip twitch. _What does that mean?_

"Katniss, Peeta," After all we've been through together, Doctor Swiftly calls us by our first names. She looks at both of us, and her lips curl up into a smile, something very rare for her, "I'm happy to announce to you that Katniss, you are indeed pregnant." I breathe out a sigh of relief I didn't know I've been holding for the past twenty four hours.

I stand up from the bed, and hold my arms out to hug her, "Thank you so much. Thank you so much."

"No need to thank me. It's my job," she smiles at me. She looks to Peeta and holds out her hand, but he declines, instead bringing her in for a hug, "Thank you for all you've done."

"You guys really need to stop giving me credit for this," she looks to the both of us and chuckles. "I had absolutely nothing to do with this. Thank each other." I see a slight blush form through Peeta's cheeks and I'm sure mine are doing the same. "So, would you guys like to hear the heartbeat?"

We both look at one another and nod. She waves for us to follow her into a different room.

This room is much different than the last. It's much darker, and only a small contraption and a bed is set up.

"Lie down, Katniss," Doctor Swiftly instructs and I do as she says. I watch as she sits to turn on the contraption. I reach for Peeta's hand and he immediately holds it. She asks me to pull my shirt up and rubs a clear liquid on my stomach. It's colder than I expected and I jump. "Sorry," she chuckles, "Don't worry, everyone does that the first time. You'll get used to it." I realized that this really is the first time I've done this. Even if I'd been pregnant before, we hadn't done this. Doctor Swiftly takes something from the contraption and places it on my stomach, rubbing it around. And that when I hear it: his heartbeat.

"Its strong," she smiles. I laugh and rub my eyes of the tears I didn't know I had running down my cheeks. She turns off the machine, and wipes of my stomach.

Doctor Swiftly clicks her pen, and begins writing on a piece of paper, "Now, Katniss, these are the vitamins I'd like you to take. Just to protect the baby, and yourself. It'll also just cleanse your body and help you prepare for childbirth in eight or so months. We'll keep checking you and the baby out on later dates just to make sure you're both doing ok."

We thank her again and exit the office. The warm spring wind calms my excitement and allows me to just enjoy the moment. Peeta reaches for my hand and I gladly accept. Together we walk with intertwined hands down the street, watching the hustle and bustle of people trying to get where they need to be. I find a contentment I haven't felt in a while.

"Let's stop somewhere first before we head home." Peeta chimes in.

I nod and he leads me to the bakery. While the rest of this part of town has been fixed up and almost everything demolished over the last 10 years, the bakery still stands, although in bad shape. Peeta opens the door and leads me inside. The extent of the damage is more than I believed. Almost everything has turned to ash, and what used to be a cheerful bakery had turned into a gloomy store.

"Peeta," I begin, covering my mouth, "I didn't realize it was in this bad of shape."

He nods, "Yeah, it is. I came down here last week to really see how much I'd need to fix." He sighs and runs his fingers through his ashy blonde hair, "And it's a lot. Believe it or not, I actually swept up a bit." I notice the black sweep propped up by the door.

"I can't believe how bad this is." My heart breaks for Peeta. His family's legend was turned to almost entirely ash. Nothing but a memory.

"Come on," he places a hand on the small of my back, "Let's go. You breathing this air can't be good for the baby." I reluctantly obey and we turn to step out of the bakery.

I place my hands in the pockets of my coat. Peeta wears a somber expression the entire walk home. I decide not to speak, just allowing him to think quietly alone in his head.

I know we'll make it through this. We'll re-open the bakery and have this baby, and continue on with our lives. We're victors of The Hunger Games. If we can't make it through this, we never should have survived those games. But we did. And we'll make it through this too.


	10. Chapter 10

Over the next few months, we slowly switch into some kind of schedule. Each day brings something different and something that was the same the day before. Peeta's gotten a group of guys together to begin to help him fix up the bakery. I try to do as much as I can, but my belly is beginning to grow and it's becoming harder to do normal tasks from exhaustion.

Each week I visit Doctor Swiftly for a checkup. With what happened in our last pregnancy she wants to keep an eye on me. Which is understandable, but a bit annoying, yet I'm grateful for her concern.

So, I stay home listening to a recording of music and try to think up some new recipes for the bakery. It's been easier than I thought, and a few have turned out to be exceptionally tasty. Peeta comes home for lunch to eat every day, as well as to check on me. It's nice to have his company, even if for a while.

As I begin to reach the eight month mark, I start to worry. Many things can still go wrong. I could delivery early, I could deliver late, I could deliver during the day when Peeta isn't around and I can't get help. During the last few days, I can see that Peeta begins to notice my worry. He suggests we sit outside in the backyard with a campfire flickering.

"What's bothering you?" he asks.

I wrap the blanket i have around my shoulders, "Nothing."

"Katniss," his voice is stern, yet calm. He knows there's more than I'm telling him.

"It's just that it's getting closer to the due date, and I'm getting terribly nervous. What if something goes wrong and you're not there to help me of I can't get help myself?" I ask, "I'm sorry but I won't be delivering a baby on the kitchen floor." I hear him chuckle, yet I find absolutely nothing funny about delivering a baby on our kitchen floor. I can see him thinking, his eyebrows scrunching.

"Since you only have a month left of your pregnancy, what if we stayed at the Capitol until then? Let's take the train there tomorrow." I look over at Peeta who's using a stick to move around the wood in the fire pit, "I could tell the boys the plans for the bakery for the next month and give them some time off. We could stay with Effie."

For a moment I find it to be an idiotic idea, to just pick up and leave for an entire month, but then I realize it'll be the last normal month of our lives. "Alright," I agree. "Let's go."

The next morning, as I'm packing a suitcase, I'm beginning I regret my decision. When I see everything we need, I'm not sure if I can handle leaving. All these bottles, toys, clothes. So much to take care of a newborn for only one or two weeks.

Peeta called Effie late last night-because of the time difference-to ask if she'd mind if we stayed with her for a while. According to Peeta's account of what had happened, there had been a lot of screaming, a lot of tears and a lot of yes's. Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew without even asking her, she would be elated to have us stay with her.

I continue to place tiny outfits and my own outfits into the suitcase, before I forget I add Peeta's clothes too. Soon enough, I'm finally able to close the suitcase, even if I did have to sit on it for quite a while until it would zip. Peeta decided to call a taxi to take us to the train station deciding it was easiest.

"Katniss," Peeta peeked his head in the bedroom. "You ready? The taxi's here."

"Yeah, just a minute," I grabbed the bag off the bed. It was heavy enough to shift my entire body and pull my arm down.

Peeta pulled the suitcase out of my hand, "Are you alright?" his voice as concerned.

"Yeah, I think so," I hold my shoulder and move it around circles seeing of the pain is severe. I decide it isn't terrible enough to worry about.

I smile, and say, "You ready to go?"

He smiles back and places his hand around my waist, "Of course I am."

I'm reminded of the reason why we hadn't visited the Capitol in months once we step on the busy train filled with screaming babies, talkative teenagers and stinky old men. "Gross," Haymitch scoffed, "We're not riding on this part of the train," Peeta had brought up the idea of visiting the Capitol to Haymitch who insisted he come along too.

So there stood the three of us in utter shock at what we were witnessing on the train. From the corner of my eye I could see Haymitch slip the attendant a hundred dollar bill. She slyly smiled, and spoke, "You three, I need you to come with me a moment." She led us to a different part of the train, a much more private, comfortably quite part. "Here's where you'll be riding with us today." Haymitch winked at the lady as she left.

I turned to Peeta and I saw him shrug his shoulders, all I could do was laugh at Haymitch's tactics to get his way. Peeta and I take a seat on the couch that's in the middle of the room. I'm mesmerized by the entire part of the train; the flowers that sit atop each small table, the priceless china that is laid neatly in front of each seat at the dining table, the gold color of the walls that had neatly been painted. _Everything looks so familiar. _Slowly, but surly I'm reminded of why the train seems familiar. It's the same one we took to the Capitol after our reaping.

I suddenly feel like my throat is about to close, my chest becomes tight, and I know that I need to find out where the nearest bathroom is, _soon_. "Peeta," I swallow." I make a circle with my finger, "This is _the _train." At first he looks at me with furrowed eyebrows, but then realizes what I'm telling him once he begins to look around. I begin to see it all again, but this time it's heightened. Every memory as clear as the moment it happened, the arena, the deaths around me, Rue, Peeta's injured leg, the mutts. It's all too much.

He sees my worry, and takes my hand, "Katniss, you're fine," I begin to breathe heavy and he places a hand on my cheek, "You're safe, we're safe, this train is taking us to our friends, and wonderful, wonderful doctors who are going to give you the best attention possible. That's it. Nothing else. This train isn't taking us to where your mind is telling you."

I close my eyes and take a few deep breaths. _One. Two. Three. _Now I know how Peeta feels when he has a flashback. _I've never been so scared in my entire life._

My hand comes up to my forehead, trying to soothe my throbbing headache, but it's then that I realize my forehead is drenched with sweat. I excuse myself, walking to the bathroom. I press a cold washcloth to my face, the chill of the water cooling my entire body, allowing me to relax.

I hear the squeak of a floorboard outside the door. I know its Peeta. He's worried. I don't blame him for wanting to make sure I was alright. I'm thankful that he cares so much.

After a moment, he ends up speaking, "Katniss, we're going to be there in a few minutes. You almost ready?" I place the cloth in the hamper and open the door.

He stands there with his arm against the wall, his blonde hair and bright blue eyes looking at me. I can't help but take in this scene. Something as simple as him caring has made me realize how incredibly lucky I am to have him. He places the palms of his hands on both of my cheeks, kissing my forehead. "You ready?" he whispers. I nod and he leads me back to the living room part of the train.

"Look, you can see the buildings." Peeta says with excitement. Together we look through the window to the outside world. We haven't been here since the 75th Hunger Games, yet it's like we never left. So many memories are flooding back to me, but I try my best to block as much of them out, at least the bad ones. But as we enter the Capitol, the bad memories are no longer taking over my mind; I look at Peeta and realize that from now on bad memories are just that-memories. I now have this wonderful, beautiful man who I know is going to try and do everything in his power to make sure nothing bad will ever happen to me. But nothing lasts forever.


	11. Chapter 11

Just as we step off the train, I hear a faint screech of a voice, and soon enough it starts to fade in, getting louder and louder. I can just make out a figure pushing through the crowd of people, with big pink hair and a voice that would make a child cover their ears, "Peeta, Katniss!" Effie screams, throwing her arms up in the air to wrap around my neck. She pulls away from the hug, "I'm so happy to see you! It's just been too long." She holds my hands and squeezes them with every word she says. "I have so much to show you both, I'm so excited!" She pulls me through the crowd, just as I grasp for Peeta's hand with my free hand.

I'm thankful for the large sweatshirt Peeta let me borrow, as I see the photographers make their way towards us. _No one has to know about this pregnancy. Not until I want them to._Effie has a car waiting for us with our luggage in it, I remind myself to thank her once all the chaos has settled.

"So," Effie's turned around from the front seat, "What brings you two here?"

"Well, Effie, Katniss-" I know where Peeta's going with this sentence, and I quickly stop him before he goes any further.

"I've been missing the city," I nod and smile. I squeeze Peeta's hand, hopefully giving him some insight on why I said what I did. "Sometimes the country life is dull."

Effie's eyes light up with pleasure, "Oh, we're going to have so much fun. We'll go to a few museums, and we'll visit some of the people who have been wanting to see the two of you for the longest time," I allow her to continue on about whatever it is she wants to do. I can feel Peeta's tense body beside me. I look down at his hands, and then up at him. He's looking out the window, holding some kind of intense stare. I know he's thinking about what I just said, and why I didn't want to tell Effie about the pregnancy.

Effie had one of the biggest mouths in all of Panem. There was no secrets when it came to her. When the last pregnancy failed, Effie was one of the first people to know thanks to Haymitch, and soon enough the entire country knew. I was not going to go there again. _Once I have the baby, then I will. _

"So, what do you want to do first?" Effie asked, taking me away from my trance. I saw her look me up and down, raising her eyebrows. "Actually, I can answer that one for you, maybe you should freshen up a bit first."

I smile at her agreeing and in no way wanting to fight her on that.

I realize that we've made it to Effie's downtown apartment when Peeta is pulling on my hand, "Okay, so what we're going to do is you're going to slip out first, and two people will be beside you to help guide you through the chaos to the inside of the building." I nod, realizing that it's crucial that I get this right if I want to keep all of this a secret from the world. "I'll be right behind you the entire time, holding your hand. I promise." He kisses my forehead as soon as that happens, I hear the door on the car pop open and see an endless amount of flashing cameras. With my free hand I pull the sweater down as far as it can go, without it becoming too loose.

I scoot out of the car, and feel Peeta's hand break free from mine. All of a sudden I get caught up in a panic stricken mode, but the two men next to me push me forward, not allowing me to turn around. As we enter the building, I search for Peeta, turning in every which way, unable to seek him. I suddenly feel arms grasp around my waist in one swift motion.

"I'm so sorry, Katniss," I hear Peeta's voice, and the feeling of comfort and relief overwhelms me. I pull him closer to me feeling every part of him, and thanking whoever is listening in my head. "When I was getting out of the car, the men pulled you too fast, and I couldn't get out fast enough. I'm so sorry," I feel him brush my hair and his fingers graze my back.

I don't figure out tears are falling from my eyes until I pull away, "It's alright," his fingers softly wipe away the tears, "I was just scared." I wish I could take back the word, but it's too late. _Me, Katniss Mellark, scared? _I don't get scared. I've been through hell and back. I shouldn't be scared over one little slip of the hand. _But I was._

"I'm sorry," Peeta's hands cup my cheeks, and he kisses my forehead again. He turns and wraps his arm around my wait, "Come on, let's get cleaned up."

Getting settled in was only the first part of a very long-very, very long-month of memories with Effie. _Keep looking on the bright side, Katniss. _It was a struggle trying to find something to wear that would hide the baby bump. According to Peeta, I'm small. Yeah, right. Everything's gotten bigger, and when I mean everything, I mean my boobs. If my stomach wasn't a dead giveaway, I know one other part of me that would be.

"Maybe we should just tell her," I grumbled while standing in front of the mirror wearing a too tight t-shirt. "I mean, I don't think I'm going to be able to pull this off. We should've just told her in the car."

"What makes you think we can't keep this from them for a few more weeks?" Peeta asks, his hands on his cheeks as he lay on the bed.

I turn to face him, and glide my hands over my chest.

"It's kind of hard not to notice when these have gotten so much bigger." I try and adjust my shirt so that it becomes longer, but it's stuck right above my belly button. "Nothing fits me anymore, Peeta.

He gets up off the bed and grabs his sweatshirt from off the desk chair, "Here, wear this. It should be long on you."

Sure enough, it was.

The rest of the day was spent sipping hot chocolate down the streets of the Capitol trying to cover my face with a baseball cap, and somehow covering my stomach with an oversized shopping bag. Thankfully, Effie toned her look down enough to the point where she could go unnoticed by all the people with cameras. Peeta kept his arm around my waist the entire day which helped me when my own body weight was threatening to bring me to the ground.

"Today has just been magnificent! Don't you think?" Effie exclaimed in her floral voice. Peeta smiled down at me, rubbing my side.

"It really was Effie. Thank you for showing us around, it's been a wonderful day." I replied, trying to stir up as much happiness as I could into those words.

She smiled at me, clapping her hands together, "Well, I suppose I'll let you too get back," she turned to me and moved a bit closer coming so close to my stomach I had to step back, "And you. Go get some rest, whether we had a wonderful day or not, you look like you've been run over by a truck." Her side brushed up against my stomach and she gave me a look I couldn't quite decipher.

As she walked away with Haymitch at her side, I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding in.


	12. Chapter 12

I woke up to a searing pain in my side. It was a constant throbbing pain. I bit my lip to hold back to scream that was growing in the back of my throat. I tried to find comfort by hunching over the side of the bed. But nothing. No, this can't be happening, I thought, it's too early. Another wave of pain crashed over me, as if a sharp, rusty knife was being wiggled inside of my lower stomach, I grasped for the side table, the pain threatening to make me fall from my bed to the floor. In that moment, I felt a hand being laid on my back. Peeta. Never before have I been so grateful that he is such a light sleeper.

"Katniss," his voice sounding a touch frantic, "Katniss, what's wrong?"

I shook my head, the pain slowly fading, leaving a dull ache in it's path. "I'm not sure," Peeta began to rub my back as I felt another wave of pain wash over me. "P-Peeta, I-It hurts." It took everything inside of me just to speak those few simple words.

"Kat, we have to get you to the hospital, we have to go," I watched as he jumped off the bed, grabbing the already packed hospital duffel bag and throwing it over his shoulder. For once in our entire relationship, I had no problem with him taking the lead.

However, I had no idea the amount of energy it would take to even walk out the door and to the ele

…

There really is nothing that can prepare you to endure childbirth. No amount of classes, books, or advice can help you even being to imagine what the pain in like. All I feel is pain, pain, pain, pain. It's the only thing consuming my being. At some points I feel Peeta's calloused hands on my forehead, and his fingers running through my hair. Everything is mostly a blur. A blur of doctors, of nurses, of people that I don't recognize, but Peeta's here, sitting in the hospital chair right next to the bed. His face is the only thing I cling to. The only thing helping me through all this.

I see his face come closer to mine, his lips touch my ear, "They can give you pain medication now, Kat." I hear him breathe a sigh of relief. "You're doing so wonderful. I'm so proud of you." My hand comes up to touch his cheek. It's wet. He's been crying.

"Peeta, what's going through your head?" I whisper.

His forehead touches my head, I can hear the quiet sobs that he's releasing, "You've been in so much pain for hours and I couldn't do anything to help you." His voice cracks, "I'm supposed to be able to protect you, to never let you go through any more pain than you've already endured."

"Peeta," I sigh quietly, finally feeling the effects of the pain medication they've given me. "This isn't your fight to fight. It's mine. And at the end of it we're going to have something so precious and beautiful that it's not going to matter about the pain that I went through, all that will matter is the little life that we will have. Then it'll all be worth it."

Peeta lifted his head, leading against the bed, he raised his hand to touch my face, "You're incredible, you know that right?" A smile crept onto his face. "I've never loved someone so much, the way that I love you."

The next three hours consisted of quite a lot of soft snores, lots of medication, and many many 'I love yous'. Almost all three of them concerning Peeta, except for the fact that I was the one giving birth, not him, so unfortunately I was the one who needed the pain medication. But I was comfortable to watch him sleep, knowing that it would be one of the last peaceful nights we'll ever have. Each time he would wake, I'd pretend to be sleeping. A few times I'd drift off as well, but the pain was still there, awakening me each time I found sleep.

I heard the doorknob wiggle, and a head popped in, "Hello, Mrs. Mellark, may I come in?" I simply nodded.

The doctor walked in and with him were four other nurses, "Are you ready for this?" I noticed him putting on gloves and the other nurses scattering around the room setting up what needed to be done.

"It's time?" I asked, my voice cracking from nervousness.

He turned and nodded at me. I let out a sharp breath and my heart began to race. _It's time. _I shook Peeta awake. "It's time, it's time." Immediately he awoke and grabbed my hand.

"It's going to be alright," he said, hearing the nervousness in my voice. He placed his hand on my cheek, I leaned my head into his hand, then placing my own hand on top of his.

"I'm scared," I replied. In that moment I felt so weak, so little. I had no control over what was going to happen. I was placing my life and the life of my child into the hands of these people whom I barely knew.

"I know, I am too." he admitted. "But I'm going to be right here next to you the entire time."

"Okay, Katniss," the doctor smiled at me, "Let's deliver a baby."

I nodded and began to push. All I felt was pressure. An enormous amount of pressure that I just wanted to go away. I let out a cry of pain. I felt Peeta's hand in mine, squeezing hard.

"Push, push, push, Katniss," I heard the doctor yell. "You're almost there, keep going,"

"Come on, my beautiful Katniss," Peeta's soft voice whispered in my ear. "You're so strong, and such a fighter, you can do this. One big push," _My sweet Peeta. _I listened and gave one big push.

"Welcome to the world, you gorgeous little girl!" the doctor pronounced. I felt a wave of complete relief wash over my body as I felt all the pressure entirely leave. They placed my baby on my stomach and washed her off. Peeta kissed my forehead, "I knew you could do it," he laughed.

I looked down at the child that was now mine. She had a beautiful blonde head of hair, and stunning blue eyes. "She looks like you, Peeta." I could feel tears running down my cheeks. And I could hear Peeta crying beside me. I run my fingers over the little blonde hairs that she already has. One moment I'm touching her, the next they're taking her away.

"Where are you taking her?" my voice sounds harsher than I intended it to, but I suppose it's the motherly instinct already kicking in.

"No worries," one of the nurses said, "She'll be right back in about 15 minutes. We're just going to wash her off, get her vitals and measure her." she smiled at me.

"Katniss, you did so wonderful," Peeta chimed in, a smile spread across his face. I chuckled at the site of a grown man smiling as big as Peeta was.

"Thank you," I whispered, "I couldn't have done it without you."

Once the fifteen minutes had passed, we were able to see our daughter again. Peeta held her first, I enjoyed being able to watch him look at her. He had nothing but an overwhelming love for her. I could tell the way he kissed her cheek and held her close to his chest. I laid back and watch him interact with her, I had never felt more content with life. Peeta spoke, but didn't take his eyes off of her, "What shall we name her?" _A name. She needs a name. Crap. _This was one of the parts about being a mother that I hadn't thought through. My child needed a name.

So I closed my eyes, and just let my mind wander to a name.

_Alba._

It was something new. Something so different.

"Alba." I declared.

Peeta looked at me, then looked back down at her again and smiled, "Alba." he ran his hand on the hat that now covered up her beautiful ashy blonde hair. "It's so beautiful."

"Alba Rue Primrose Mellark."

Peeta looked to me and smiled. "It's perfect." He walked toward me, "She wants you," I could see her wiggling in the blanket and I opened my arms for him to place her in them.

I looked down at this beautiful child in my arms. She was mine. This little human that grew inside me for nine months was now in my arms. The child that caused me many mornings crouched over the toilet, many sleepless nights, and countless mood swings. I gave this beautiful child life. Peeta and I gave this child life. Her soft fingers wrapped around my index finger and I felt her sigh into a deep sleep.

I moved over on the bed with enough room for Peeta to lie beside me. His right arm wrapped around my shoulders. He kissed my temple and looked down at Alba. "I was hoping she'd look more like you." I chuckled, as I looked down at my Alba. She had every feature of Peeta's. Her blonde hair, and blue eyes, the way her eyebrows scrunched as she slept, and the way her lips curled as if she were concentrating on something important. Everything about her was beautiful. "Sadly, she has my nose though," I laughed.

Peeta placed his head against mine, as we watched her sleep. I couldn't help but feel so full of joy and love and peace. In this moment, everything was so perfect. This beautiful little person in my arms was mine, and I loved her more than anything. And the man beside me was holding me in his arms, whispering in my ear beautiful things. Everything that had happened in my past was blurred, and for the first time in my life, I was able to focus purely on my future and the wonderful things that were in store for my family.

As Alba began to fall asleep, my own eyelids began to feel heavier. And soon enough I fell into my own sleep, feeling more love and contentment than I ever have in my entire life.


End file.
